


The Passing of Time and all of its Crimes

by iamjustakiddo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1993-1994, Angst, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Hogwarts Third Year, M/M, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Professor Remus Lupin, events from Remus' POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7989625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamjustakiddo/pseuds/iamjustakiddo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The years 1993 and 1994 felt like tumbling down the staircase- every crash hitting Remus with full force, leaving his head dizzy and spinning, joints aching and tongue bleeding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Passing of Time and all of its Crimes

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to J.K. Rowling.
> 
> I am sorry for all spelling or grammar errors, English is not my first language.
> 
> Warning: Usage of the word 'fag' for 'cigarette'

_The passing of time_  
_And all of its crimes_  
_Is making me sad again_  
_The passing of time_  
_And all of its sickening crimes_  
_Is making me sad again_  
_But don't forget the songs_  
_That made you cry_  
_And the songs that saved your life_  
_Yes, you're older now_  
_And you're a clever swine_  
_But they were the only ones who ever stood by you_

_\- Rubber Ring by The Smiths_

_*_

 

July 1993 swept over the country with a warm summer-breeze, waking tender leaves and golden crops along its way. Remus had managed to acquire another job that brought him into he streets at five o'clock in the morning, handing out newspapers.

It wasn't too bad.

The office had even provided him with an old and rusty bicycle for his usage and he had developed the habit of always taking a copy home for himself. He hadn't been subscribed to the Daily Prophet for a couple of years now. His empty vault and weary mind were quite relieved at that.

Reading Muggle news became a light enjoyment of his, being able to look at unmoving faces on photographs that were just that- photographs. No enforced laws on werewolves, no complications with the goblins at the bank department in Egypt, no trials for former death eaters. Stepping out of the magical world sometimes felt like a burden lifted off Remus' shoulders.

Certainly, Muggle-news weren't all sunshine either, yet it made him feel less responsible, less vulnerable, as if reading another novel that told of realms far away and universes he wasn't a part of.

The sun had already risen over the rooftops, drenching everything in pale light as he pushed his bike back to the post-station. Despite the early hours of eight a.m., mouth-drying heat clung to his clothes, the friction of scratchy wool and harsh cotton irritating his skin. The echoes of long gone laughter, boots thumping on dry asphalt and kisses full of smoke filled his mind as Remus made his way up the alley. He leaned on his bike wearily as he passed the domestic sounds of opening shutters and kettles being put on stoves, his remaning papers rustling quietly in their basket. The old lady from Number Six waved a trembling hand at him from her threshold, sending a toothless smile while a tabby cat stroke around her ankles. Nodding back, Remus' heart gave a pleasant tug.

The thought of discarding his wand and robes,leading a life far away from flying broomsticks and Magical Law Enforcements had crossed his mind already more than once. His small, inherited cottage at the edge of town had a nice cozy garden where he could tend to vegetables and herbs. Maybe he could invite Mr. and Mrs. Polinski from the local grocery store over for afternoon tea every sunday. They could chat about the most recent football game or latest gossip in town.

Delivering papers was decent enough and maybe an internship at the library would come into consideration? Old Mr. Lewis knew him well enough, his bright eyes sparkling excitedly whenever he recommended Remus a new book to read. The neighbours would stop for a small chit-chat by his garden-fence while he picked up his post from the letterbox.

Yes, maybe his letterbox would finally be of use.

Shaking his head grimly, Remus returned the bike to its stand infront of the office. Once a month reality would crash over him under a full moon, making it clear that he would never be able to lead a life such as his mind dreamed itself. Photographs with jagged edges and sun-bleached smiles greeted him every time he entered his bedroom, reminding him of all he used to have that had made his life a worthy one, reminding him he would always have to live without it now.

His little cottage came into view slowly at the end of the road, sitting in the shadows of a forest. It looked slightly rugged and ancient, vines and bushes gathering around it. If Remus had not grown up there, he wouldn't have been able to tell where the garden ended and the woods began. Nevertheless, he loved it. His childhood had not been particularily pleasant, but his memories were still clouded with his parent's warmth.

As Remus reached the doorsteps, he spotted a dignified looking owl perched on one of the windowsills, its eyes staring at him condescending.

"Well come on then.", he said slightly amused and held the door open for the bird to fly in, clutching its post importantly.

The inside opened up to a humble living room, a door to the left leading to a tiny kitchen and the stairs on the right to the first floor that only consisted of two small bedrooms and a bathroom. Although Remus knew that some wizards would wrinkle their noses at its small space, he would not ever want to switch with another house. It belonged to one of the few possessions that were truly his. The delicate scent of smoke and apple-rosehip-tea filled the living room, dusting over countless books stacked into shelves and around the small sofa. Even a fireplace was present. It was more than he could wish for.

An impatient 'hoot' drew his attention to the coffetable where the owl was now posing on a modest looking pile of mail. Remus kicked his shoes off and sat down on the sofa, placing a copy of The Times beside him. Shaking his head under his visitor's judging eyes he mumbled:

"I hope you are not expecting tea with biscuits..." The first package he reached for was the copy of _Hinkepunks: Their natural inhabitance and how to dispose of them_ that his editor had sent him back. During these last twelve years Remus had published two short handbooks and a fair number of articles on dark magical creatures. Writing had supported him occasionally with a small amount of money . Sales had not been over the top, since he had not presented something new, but Remus had been grateful for every galleon that was added to his vault in Gringotts.

The next letter was by Madame Pomfey. She was the only one that had stayed in contact with him after all these years. Andromeda had been sending word too, but after some time her letters had stopped and Remus hadn't had the heart to pick up his quill. Except from occasional letters by Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey had written him every two months, asking about his wellbeing. She had always had a soft spot for him and Remus heart fluttered warmly as he unfolded the parchment.

Especially the letters of these past two years had left a sting in his chest, which he wasn't sure of wether it was from happiness or pain. She liked to tell him about Harry and how he ended up in the Hospital Wing too often for her liking, how much he looked like his father and how he had inherited his talent of getting into trouble. Apparantly he had Lily's eyes and Remus didn't know wether he wanted to weep or laugh or both. His fingers always trembled whenever he read Harry's name. After that he more than often ended up with an half empty bottle of firewhiskey.

_Dear Remus,_

_I hope that this past moon has been easy on you? Although I know that it is never easy, I hope you are well and eat enough. (I hope you gave up on smoking finally?)_

_Maybe you can remember when I told you about the peculiar cases of petryfied students that have swept the school for months? Seems like the mystery is solved now and guess who we have to thank for it?_

_Yes, Remus, it was little Harry again. The poor boy is in my care once again. I don't know what to do with him anymore. He is as bad as James was -no, almost worse. I am glad he has such good friends like clever Miss Granger and the Weasley-boy, they take good care of him. I think he would be lost without them. He needs his friends as much as you needed your's when you were his age._

_I would love to tell you the details and the occurencies of this year, but it would be best if I told you over a cup of tea, face to face. There is a surprise in store for you, the other letter that came along will explain what I mean._

_In hope of seeing you soon,_

_Your worried nurse and friend_

_Poppy P._

Remus grabbed the other envelope puzzled and turned it to see the official Hogwarts-emblem. Breaking the seal he unfolded the letter, suddenly having trouble breathing properly. It almost felt like getting his letter all these years ago.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALbus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First CLass, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Surpreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizardry)_

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_Due to an unfortunate event, the latest Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts is unable to teach the students of Hogwarts any further. On account of this event we would like to offer you the position of the new DADA-Teacher. In case you are willing to accept our proposition, please send us an owl with your answer._

_In that case, a ticket for the Hogwarts-express will be sent to you immediately and you will be taking your new position in the coming schoolyear. Since we are aware of your condition, Professor Snape- our Potions Master- has declared himself willing to brew a potion every month, which will ease your problem._

_We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Your's sincerely_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

For a few moments Remus forgot how to breathe completely. His heart was racing and the dark letters blurred in front of his eye. The air was wrapped around him tightly and his mind suddenly felt soft and fuzzy. Was this one of his dreams again, his lunacies? Surely he would wake up in a few moments, drenched with sweat and bare hands clasping cold, empty air. With surprise he noticed a tear dropping onto the parchment, smudging the ink.

Remus smiled and unclenched his hands from the paper that was now slightly wrinkled. The owl watched him with a scornful expression, but Remus just grinned at it, his cheeks burning.

"I haven't liked anyone for a long time as much as I like you right now.", he said breathlessly and read the letter a second time, a third time, until he knew it by heart. A cup of tea was now called for and maybe the owl would get its biscuit after all.

Five minutes later Remus found himself with the papers and the post along with a steaming cup of Earl Grey on the creaky bench in front of his house. A lit cigarette hung from his fingers, smoke curling around him which would've put a scowl on Madame Pomfrey's brows.

Sunshine peaked above the dark forest already and the hum of dozen bees filled the air. As if it had been centuries since Remus had stepped into the outer world, he inhaled the warmth and rich scent of grass, still cool from morning dew, filling his lungs. He was being presented with an opportunity to be a professor.

At Hogwarts.

Him, Remus Lupin.

Professor Lupin.

R.J. Lupin, Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

A quiet laughter escaped his lips as he became aware of this absurdity. How ironic, a dark creature teaching a bunch of kids how to defend themselves against the likes of him. James would've laughed his head off, Remus was sure. Considering the fact, that he was going to teach his little son.

His heart skipped a beat. He was going to see Harry again. And it was almost too good to be true.

For some while Remus let his eyes wander around his garden, sipping his tea completely lost in thoughts. A flutter of wings announced the arrival of the owl, hopping beside him on the bench, pointedly not looking at him. Sighing chidingly, Remus reached into his pocket and threw a jammy-dodger for the bird, which hooted excitedly. He watched it contently for some time and then placed his cup beside him gently, unfolding the newspapers, briefly glancing at the headlines before opening it.

It was remarkable how a beautiful morning full of hope such a this one could be destroyed by one single picture and a paragraph. Happiness was indeed as fragile as glass and once again, Remus asked himself how he could still allow himself feel content and unworried. In the end, reality always hit him back with the force of a rock, left him bleeding and naked on the forestground.

Twelve years he had spent, desperately trying to bury his past, struggling forward without actually seeing a future at all.He had buried his future three times underground and had left it in Azkaban for twelve years, discovering that it had all been a lie anyway.

Now his past- or was it future once more?- was staring right back at him, unmoving black-and-white, sunken eyes and pale skin.

A face he had known so well, had explored every inch of it and now seemed utterly unfamiliar, parted by a veil of more than a decade.

Remus felt his fingers grow numb, as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head. Struggling for air he dropped the paper and buried his face in his hands, fingers clawing and pulling through hair. The warm sunshine that was stroking the back of his head felt vile now, intruding into his mind and tearing the skin off him. Every breath burned in his throat .

He didn't want to breathe ever again. The owl hopping at his feet went unnoticed, as it pecked at the fluttering pages.

_Yesterday evening it has been reported that a mass-murderer going by the name of Sirius Black has escaped from prison. He has been convicted twelve years ago for the murder of thirteen people. All citizens must report him immeditaley at the next police station when sighted . He is said to be very dangerous and supposedly carries a gun with him._

 

_*_

 

It was half past nine in the morning and Remus was way too early. Steam swirled around him as he stepped through the barrier, the oh-so familiar, bright-red engine coming into view. Only the groaning of mashinery and steam puffing was to be heard. No students were yet around.

His heart gave a jerky tug as he stopped in his tracks, taking in the train in all its glory, feeling like he was eleven years old again.

Full of hope and anxiety. 

Never had he believed to be suitable for Hogwarts and yet Dumbledore had taken every precaution necessary to enable his education. And now, 22 years later, Dumbledore presented him with the opportunity once again, the key to his new future just a plain page of parchment. 

Eventhough a month had passed since the news had arrived, Remus still did not feel in any way prepared. 

His fingers wouldn't keep still as he dragged his trunk along the platform to one of the doors, pulling and tugging at his finest robes he had managed to find in his dusty closet. Patches graced it along the hems and its colour was already faded. 

It was the least he could do to present himself suitable.

 

The moon last night had been especially viscious and bloody, in the morning he had woken up bruised and with an empty void in his guts. It had taken a lot of strength and countless spells to rid himself of the worst wounds. As always, it had been impossible to remove all evidence, silver scars still gracing his face as he now stepped on the train.

 

Remus knew that it hadn't all been just nerves. The news of Sirius' escape hovered above his mind like a dark cloud, whispering and murmuring. He believed it curious that Dumbledore had hired him at this exact time and he doubted that it had been a coincedence.

Maybe the headmaster thought him useful for Harry's protection? Although the idea clawed his heart agonisingly, Remus had to admit that Harry was in very grave danger. It would only make sense for Dumbledore to call on him, since he had been one of the closest friends to a viscious mass-murdering convict. 

If only someone knew, just how close they actually had been. 

Nausea overtook him by the mere thought of Sirius.  The twinge of hope and relief that sometimes sparked in his chest made him sick. He had forbidden himself to read any of the articles, had burned the photos and fought against memories that kept flooding back at night. Drowning his shame with firewhiskey had proven itself unsuccessful, making him stumble across shards of long gone moments he had banned from his mind. 

Maybe, Dumbledore wasn't as clueless as he thought. What if he knew about the details of their past all along and suspected him to conspire with Sirius against him, targeting Harry together?

If that was the case, Remus couldn't blame him. After he had settled into an empty compartment, he realised he had no idea what he would do if the familiar black dog appeared right now. Shutting his eyes quickly he huddled in the corner of his seat, finding that not even he could trust himself. 

 

*

When Remus woke with a sudden jolt it was dark, the confused voices of five people filling the compartment . His fingers were ice-cold and hurt as he uncurled them, fumbling for his wand. 

"Quiet!", he croaked hoarsly, sleep blurring away from his vision. Quick breaths unfurled white clouds into the air, illuminated by the fire in his hand. The eerie silence seeped through every pore of his body and he knew immediately what this meant.

 

Crawling through their clothes mercilessly, the cold increased as a few minutes later the door opened. 

Remus felt the emptiness spreading through his bones, memories washed over him like a sudden flash of light, blindingly filling his skull- _Dumbledore's face over a cup of steaming tea-"It's about Lily and James, Remus. Voldemort found them"_

"None of us is hiding Sirius Black under their clothes. Go!"

 

_\- Andromeda stumbling out of his fireplace, messy haired and tear-streaked face- "Sirius, he- it was him all this time- we trusted him" and Remus felt a scream in the back of his throat, coppery blood filling his mouth, wanted to rip out his veins- "I am so sorry, Remus" the silver moon sucking him in, pulling and pushing at his joints-no._

_Sunshine dancing across rippling waves, fingers tugging his hair gently "Come on Moony, let's go"- three shadows moving beside him, smoke filling his lungs and the taste of chocoloate on his tongue, lips tracing his jawline "I could devour you-"-_

The patronus left his wand in silver mist and the cold retreated, leaving them catching heavy breaths. 

 

As Remus turned around he saw four young, pale faces staring up at him and he wanted to weep. The fifth person lay on two seats, his face blurred in Remus' vision, leaving him crashing through a tangle of dreams and long-dead laughter, smelling like mint. 

He had never believed in fate, yet it was the only possible explanation to why he was staring at the perfect copy of James Potter's face, twelve years later.

"Professor, what is happening to him? Will he be alright?" 

Barely registering the worried voices around him, he hid his wand and was suddenly kneeling, heart pressing against his ribcage, ready to break through. He rummaged through his cloak, trying to keep his hands occupied while his mind raced away from him, frantic thoughts pushing themselves against his temple.

 

When the boy regained his consciousness at last, all feeling left his limbs as Lily's eyes stared back at him.

His throat grew very tight and he gripped the bar of chocolate tighter, struggling for words.

 

"Here, eat. It'll help."

 

*

September and October felt like ancient and long dead dreams.

Sometimes, the familarity of the castle almost swallowed Remus whenever he walked down empty corridors and he wasn't sure wether his reality had broken apart yet. 

Maybe he was just floating between the cracks and spaces, void pulling him from edge to edge- oh look, there was that portrait of the old vicar that had liked chatting with him. And there, Greenhouse 3, behind which he had disappeard countless times and returned with mussed hair and blushing cheeks. Even the Whomping Willlow greeted him with arms stretched wide, its silhoutte cutting against the falling sun-all jumbled images and impressions that bashed open his skull, poured into every fibre of his body.

Remus reminded himself everyday that no Peter would accompany him in the library and no Sirius would throw his arm around him under the beeches by the lake. Some mornings he would wake up in his own dusty office and be confused why he wasn't in his four-poster bed in the Gryffindor-tower, without legs tangling around his and raven hair tickling his chin.

 

Accepting the fact that the students seemed to find his classes actually interesting, was especially difficult for Remus. The surreality of standing in front of countless faces, instead being one of them,  overwhelmed him each time. To his surprise a certain fondness for his students bloomed in his chest. 

For example, there was quiet Neville Longbottom, who reminded him so much of Peter when he had been his age- unsure of himself and nervous to no end. Remus did all he could to give him a small push of selfconfidence in every lesson, thinking back at Alice and Frank fondly. He was sure, that Neville would make them very proud.

Then there were Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, completely unseperable. Watching them sent a sting through his heart, because he saw himself in them and just smiled at their obliviousness.

Even when it was just another student asking for his advice after lessons, he felt strangely useful and valued. Remus could actually see himself years from now, sitting in his office with a fag hanging from his lips, correcting mountains of homework with callused hands. 

 

One face in particular made him flinch more than often, breath catching in his throat. He had to blink twice until he realised that it was 1993, not 1973.

That this was Harry, not James Potter who smiled at him at breakfast. It was remarkable, how similiar the boy was to his father, biting his lips while thinking just like James used to, eyes blurring into distance whenever he sat in class absentmindedly. But in contrary to James, Harry tended to disappear in the background, doing anything to not draw attention to himself. Remus couldn't blame him. Harry's presence in a room was enough to wake whispers and furtive glances.

 

 

The more time passed, the more he swore himself to protect the boy with all he could offer.

 

 

*

 

And then All Hallow's Eve arrived and Remus felt worse than he had since his arrival. 

Although the potion had helped him to keep his mind sane during the full moon the night before, he felt sickly and exhausted. Halloween had not been a day of celebration for a long time now. Twelve years he had tried to tune out what had happened, what had changed his life so drastically on 31st of october 1981. 

 

Talking to Harry that day had been particularily difficult, but Remus couldn't help but feel slightly more at home. 

What was Hogwarts to him without the bespectacled messy-haired boy, roaming its grounds? 

What was Hogwarts to him without those gentle green eyes that had kept him from drowning too many times?

What was Remus without the only certainty that had kept him alive when he was coughing up blood? 

He knew he should stop, move on and accept the fact that this was Harry, this was the future now and nothing would bring back the past. James and Lily were gone, covered in soil and flowers.

Harry was not a substitute for the the people he had known and loved, making it Remus duty to protect him in their honour.

 

The evening had been tolerable enough. 

Remus was just on his way to his office as Professor McGonagall followed him hurriedly, her stern voice bringing him to an halt. 

"Professor Lupin, you have to come at once. Black has somehow found a way into the castle and attacked the Fat Lady." 

The words ripped right through him.

All securities that had held him on the edge were cut with one simple sentence and there was nothing that kept his mind from tumbling. It must have shown on his face because McGonagall tugged at his elbow gently, pulling him back to the present. 

"Come along. We must find him.", she said from far away, her voice concerned and muffled now. Blood was rushing through his ears and Remus noticed that his knees were shaking. 

It didn't make any sense.

 

*

 

"How could he enter the castle with dementors at every door?"

 

"He must've used very dark magic, that you can be sure of."

  
"He probably wanted to attack those children while they were most vulnerable."

 

"How did he just disappear?"

 

"Maybe someone helped him."

 

Questions floated around the castle all night long, no one could even waste a thought on sleeping.

 

Remus hid his face, guilt eating him alive, like ugly maggots coiling under his skin. 

He parted from the group of professors and as he leaned his elbows on a toilet-seat a few minutes later, the nausea remained. 

It still didn't make any sense

*

 

After hours of fruitless search, Remus found himself in McGonagall's office, nibbling a dry biscuit. The early morning sun painted soft shadows onto the walls, dust dancing around them.

"Albus shouldn't have brought you here.", McGonagall said as she placed a steaming cup of tea on the table infront of him. 

She had always had an extraordinary sense of perception. 

He couldn't find the strenght to respond, barely able to swallow the crumbs melting away in his mouth. 

"Go get some sleep after tea, Remus. You need your strength and you can not overwork yourself. You've got students to teach."

Remus nodded slowly, trying to make sense of her words, searching for meanings.

He didn't feel like sleeping ever again. 

 

*

 

Remus knew that Snape was suspecting him. Knew that his dark, empty eyes followed his every move. He was also aware that Snape would like nothing more than to put something peculiar into his monthly Wolfsbane-potion, just a slip of the finger and he would be history. And if that didn't work, the secret Remus had been carrying around with him for 28 years would be an esay task to spill.

Despite all these facts, he couldn't blame Snape. After all, his suspicions weren't that far off and it was Dumbledore, that was blind for once. 

 

The following months Remus had found himself at least two times a week on his way to the headmaster's office and everytime something held him back. 

Freezing in the middle of the corridor, pictures of stormy eyes overcame him, wild laughter and the roaring of a motorcycle, the syntax of gentle fingertips against his spine and he turned abruptly, hollow steps echoing against the stonewalls.

 

After that, he ususally sat in his office staring at the blank wall.

 

His nights were haunted by images of sharp jawlines, lips exploring his scars shamelessly and setting his nerves on fire until he drowned in his sheets. 

Waking drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, he found himself alone in the grey hours of late night. 

Remus pressed a fist against his temples and fought down screams, biting his lips until they bled.

 

*

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present_

_The Marauder's Map_

 

Remus' tea-cup shattered against the wall. Shards cut his cheeks as he pressed a hand across his lips, choking down a sob.

 

*

 

Another break-in and Remus barely slept at all. 

Meeting Harry's eyes became more difficult every day.

 

*

 

One pale morning his eyes wandered over the calm lake, frosty leaves crunching under his boots and there was a  pull, scratching in the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

Between his shoulderblades it coiled and tugged, his fingertips itching  until Remus turned his gaze towards the forest, towering above him.

Eventhough his mind screamed to stop, to avert himself, to claw his eyeballs out- there it was.

A dark silhoutte between the hedges, pale eyes devouring him on the spot, intently and raw. He blinked once, twice and then the shadow was gone, but not from his consciousness. Turning sharply he walked faster, stumbing up the way to the castle, struggling for air. He felt the look in every edge of his body, cutting away all oxigen until he reached the Great Hall. 

At the breakfast-table he merely smiled at Professor Flitwick's concerned question - "Just my favourite time of the month, you know." - and forced away the pressure inside his ribcage.

 

Luckily he hadn't gagged up his heart yet.

 

*

 

"Are you sure you feel quite well, dear?"

 

"Of course, please don't worry. Professor Snape's help makes everything a little bit easier for me but I can still feel it in my bones."

 

"I am glad that you are finally able to let that horrible ritual behind you. It has always broken my heart when I had to pick you up in the morning, all bloodied up and bruised. You were like a small bird, I was constantly worrying you might not make it to the next moon."

 

"Well, back then it were more difficult times for my kind." 

 

"It's miracle how you managed all these years... I've talked to Albus often and I am glad that he finally listened to me."

 

"Thank you, Madame. Although I can quite understand Professor Dumbledore's resistence. I am grateful for everything he has offered me in these past months."

 

"Are you sure you don't want me to check on you? You are looking quite pale and it is still two weeks until the next moon."

 

"Really, it is fine. I am just tired, those students really understand their art of exhausting teachers. I can only imagine how we used to be..."

 

"...I am so sorry you have to witness all of this, Remus. If you ever wish to talk about it- I mean you were so close and I just couldn't believe when I heard-"

 

"Please, let us not talk about this. I have had almost thirteen years now to sleep over it and sometimes people just aren't who they seemed to be. My life is different now and I have students to teach how to defend themselves. I have moved on."

 

"Oh Remus..."

 

"Thank you for the tea, Madame Pomfrey. I will stop by another time, I promise. Duty calls."

 

*

 

After he had watched the names _Harry Potter, Ronald Weasly_ and _Hermione Granger_ reach Hagrid's hut, Remus averted himself from the map and stood to the window to roll himself a cigarette. The smell of tabacco stung his nose sharply as he lifted the paper to his lips. 

 Allready the sun disappeared behind the mountains, spilling blood into the clouds and the grounds lay eerily quiet, only disrupted by spiraling smoke from Hagrid's chimney. 

Remus opened the window and breathed in deeply, lighting his fag with shaking fingers. The moon was pulling in his bone-marrow, sending pressing waves against the back of his skull, his spine and ribs. 

Snape would arrive with the potion in some time and Remus would have to lock himself in, just as he had done since the beginning of the schoolyear. Although he still felt sick and worn out once a month, the potion took away most of his pain and he didn't wake up bloody and scratched to the bones as he usually did. If that were the case, he wouldn't set a foot into his classroom. 

The memory of all his students passing the final exam successfully sent a gentle smile on his lips as his lungs filled with smoke. Remus was very proud. Not only of  his students accomplishments, but also his own. If his young, illicit self could see him now, he would probably laugh at the absurdity. This was definitely better than publishing mere handbooks on dark creatures.

 

Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, Remus turned back to his table as his gaze fell upon the map.

His heart stumbled as a single name stood out from the others, dancing letters carving themselves into his mind. All thoughts of Snape, students and the moon vanished. Long dead voices filled his skull, his chest and burned through him. 

Stubbing out the fag hastily he grabbed the map, staring at it in disbelief. 

 

_Peter Pettigrew._

His eyes followed the four dots moving towards the Whomping Willow as another Name appeared in his vision

 

_Sirius Black_

The office door crashed open and with a swish of his robes,  Remus stormed out, ashtray smoking into the following silence.

 

*

 

Feeling as if someone had bashed his brain open with a pickaxe, Remus woke the next morning. For a moment he tried to ajust his eyes to the sudden brightness surrounding him, static in his ears. Scrambled images filled his mind and he had difficulties putting them together in a sensible order. 

_storm-withered eyes, bleak and sunken, red flashes of light and yells scattered around him "You and him! I can't belive it!" his heart pounding aginst his ribcage, head dizzy from lack of oxygen "Get away from me, Werewolf!" all senses gone, limbs numb, "Forgive me, Remus", his spine ripping through his body, everything drenched in silver-_

Remus gasped and a gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder, helping him up to take a sip of water. Dizzily he turned his head, recognising Madame Pomfrey's face and smiled weakly at her.

"Haven't looked that bad since- long." His voice scratched and his tongue seemd to be covered in pelt. 

"No no, my dear, don't speak just yet."

Absently Remus realised that his arms and chest were covered in bandages. 

Maybe it had all been a bad dream and he was still a boy, worrying about the next Transfiguration-essay and it was still 1973.

A sob stuck in the back of his throat, suffocating him. 

 

Later that morning Remus finally convinced Madame Pomfrey to let him go and so he found himself in front of the griffin at the Headmaster's office. This time there was no backing down. 

Reaching the heavy door, he knocked numbly and hid his fingers in the pockets of his shabby robe, scratching at the plasters around his knuckles. The door swung open and Remus found Dumbledore at his table, waiting for him already. 

 

"Ah, Remus. I haven't been expecting you that early. I assumed, Madame Pomfrey would assign you to at least three days bed-time."

Stepping closer carefully, Remus sent a weary smile. 

"Well, I can be quite persuading, if I want to."

Serene eyes twinkled at him and he averted his gaze, stomach lurching. His fingers itched in repulsion. 

"Please take a seat, Remus."

A hiss escaped his lips as he lowered himself on the chair gingerly, pain shooting up his spine. Dumbledore's mouth twitched pitifully and Remus wanted to growl at him, rip his beard off-

"Who found me?", he asked instead, directing his eyes out of the window, pale blue sky stretching above the castle. The weather was clearly mocking him.

"Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey entered the forest as soon as dusk fell. They found you a mile from the lake, curled up on a clearing."

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, struggling for words. 

"And did I-"

"No.", the headmaster interrupted him gently. "No one was hurt." Fawkes' feathers rustled quietly behind them and Remus could almost feel Dumbledore's gaze on him, piercing his skin like icicles. Gritting his teeth, he finally turned his eyes back, lifting his chin slightly.

"I am grateful for everything you have done for me this year, Professor. I want to thank you. For offering me a safe place where I had a secure job and where my condition could be tamed at least a little bit."

He forced a smile on his lips before he continued. 

"But I am afraid, I can not stay any longer. Someone could've been hurt last night and I will not put anyone at risk ever again. I would like to resign the job."  
  


The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for an eternity and Remus clenched his fists, felt blood seeping through his bandages. 

"I understand completely, although I regret your decision. I am sure we could've come to an understanding, but I will not hold you against your will."

"You wouldn't be able to, Sir." 

Another silence followed. 

"What happened last night? To Peter? Is everyone alright?"

Dumbledore furrowed his brows, averting his gaze from Remus, who could finally breathe freely.

"Harry and Hermione told me everything. After you transformed, Peter escaped. Sirius is alive, so is the Hippogriff. They fled together."

His heart skipped a beat, vision swimming in front of him. Question after question raced through his mind. Dumbledore went on explaining the events of last night, his voice filling every corner of the room for the next few minutes.

 

"So this time you actually managed to fix things.", Remus said finally as soon as Dumbledore ended, flinching at the sound of his own voice, cold and sharp. 

The old man infront of him buried his face in wrinkly hands and Remus only watched, unmoved. He tried to swallow down the pressure behind his tongue, but he was scared his chest might burst.

"Remus, I understand that you are angry-"

"Indeed. I am. I am furious." it came out as a whisper and he just wanted to claw at his throat for betraying him like that. 

"All these years ago, you let him get arrested, be brought to Azkaban, where he sat for twelve years, without considering that he might be innocent? Worst of all, I believed it. The fact that you let it happen convinced me that Sirius was undeniably guilty. In the end, when the Order was falling apart around us and our relationship was crumbling under our distrust for one another, my greatest fears became true. And you did nothing to hold it together. All it did was drive us further apart."

The words poured out of him, unstoppable. 

 

"All evidence pointed against him-" Dumbledore's voice sounded tired, and Remus wanted to grab his words and fling them right back at him.

"Of course they did, that was exactly Peter's plan! But all evidence pointed against Snape too. Snape, who was a well-known Death Eater, Snape who has always been neck-deep in the dark arts, Snape whose fault it was in the first place that Voldemort turned against Lily and James. And you let _him_ work for you, freeing him of all charges just because of his love for the mother of the boy he despises, the wife of the man he hates? After he had realised that it wasn't any common wizard-baby, but no, it was Lily's son. He wouldn't have come running back to you if it had been anyone else. And you still took him in. Good for Severus, really. Everyone should get a chance, right?" 

Remus was surprised how calm he sounded, how he hadn't coughed up the storm inside him was beyond him.

"Yet, Sirius didn't get his. Tell me how this is fair. Tell me how Sirius deserved this, an innocent man, locked away for twelve years."

 

Leaning back shivering, Remus pressed a hand against his temples, the room swirling around him in a vortex of blurred colours and ruthless light. Barely noticing that Dumbldore was looking at him again, he took a deep and calming breath.

"Twelve years I believed that three of my best friends had died because another one had turned into a traitor. Twelve years I had to live with the knowledge that I was, and still am, in love with the murderer responsible for it, hated myself every night, was ashamed at merely thinking his name. Twelve years I have tried to wash him from my mind just to find out he was innocent all along. Instead, it was Peter, whom I have mourned for, whom I wanted to protect at all costs." 

There was no shame with which he spoke those words. He neither cared nor was interested in Dumbledore's opinion of him. The burden of being a social outcast had been thrust upon his shoulders years ago, and the reasons were of little importance by now. 

A hollow feeling spread in his chest. All anger that had bottled up in him was suddenly gone, leaving him empty and worn. 

 

"I am so sorry ,Remus. For all that you had to live through, for all the burdens  you had to endure." 

Shrugging his shoulders, Remus lifted  his head, forcing a smile at the headmaster. 

"I believe, I owe you an apology as well. For not telling you about Sirius being an Animagus. You can add that on the list of reasons why I decided to resign the post. I acted irresponsibly and immature for selfish reasons. I could've brought danger to everyone in this school."

 

To his surprise, a small smile played around Dumbledore's lips and quiet laughter scattered through the room. Remus lifted an eyebrow puzzled.

"I can not deny that your silence could've brought severe consequences. Yet I am quite impressed, to be honest. I dare say, not many wizards could be able to turn themselves into Animagi right under my nose without my knowledge. Which also explains the choice for your creative nicknames you had given each other. It's quite amusing, really. I wish Horgwarts could hold you longer. You have proven yourself a capeable teacher, which can not be said of your predecessors." 

Remus bowed his head thankfully and gripped the egde of the table to pull himself up.

"I am going to pack my things now."

 

Dumbledore stood abruptly and strode over to Remus' side, helping him up from the chair. He felt his cheeks grow hot in shame, yet he welcomed the help gladly, limping to the door. 

"I will call a  carriage to take you to the train-station."

"Thank you Professor. After I have left, please do not contact me unless it's about Sirius or Harry. He is the only thing that holds me in this school. I schouldn't have come here in the first place. The past should stay where it is."

Nodding slowly, the headmaster held the door open for him, eyes twinkling with understanding.

 

*

 

Remus apparated from King's Cross and found himself between tall trees, earthy air filling his lungs. Through the trunks he could see his cottage, sitting there as it had on the day he left. Grabbing his suitcase with some effort he limped through the hedges, a setting sun playing with his hair gently. 

When he walked over the gardentrack he noticed that he wasn't alone. An enormous, black dog lay on his doormat, head resting between its front legs, welcoming him with haunting grey eyes. 

Remus froze in his track, locking gaze with the dog, heart dropping into his stomach. 

Long shadows painted the cottage-walls as animal stood, air blurring around it and a man took its place. The sunset drenched his pale face in soft golden light, looking more lively than he had last night and Remus clenched his hands around his bag, pain pulsing through his fingers. Licking his lips he took a few steps forward, not tearing his eyes away.

 

"I am sorry to barge in on you like that, Remus.", croaked Sirius, his voice still worn and rusty from years of not using it. Bony fingers ran through raven hair , trying to tame the knotty and shabby strands. As Remus passed him, he noticed sharp bones digging into Sirius' skin and he swallowed hard, averting his gaze quickly. 

"Come in. You can wash yourself and I will make us some tea. Maybe something small to eat.", he managed to reply, holding the door open for his visitor.

"Where have you left Buckbeak?"

"Thank you. In the forest with some rats to snack on. He will be fine." 

 

A short silence followed, filled only by the ticking clock on the mantlepiece, as they both regarded each other, Sirius bright-eyed and uncertain. Remus coughed finally and turned quickly to the stairs, heart beating against his ribs.

"Do you remember where the bathroom is? Up the stairs and second door to the right. I will try and find you something clean to wear. I hope I have something that fits you."

 

Twenty minutes later, Remus pressed a mug of tea into Sirius' cool hands, lowering himself beside him on the bench and setting a plate with toast between them. 

The sun was almost gone, sending its last light over their faces, drawing out the shadows. 

"Eat this, if you can.", he said quietly, not looking at him. He didn't know what else to say or how to form words and give meaning to them. Sirius shuffled beside him, scratching and fumbling at the too short pullover Remus had given him. Not knowing what else to do with his fingers, he pulled out his wand and muttered: " _Accio_ cigarettes."

 

Quiet laughter filled his ears as the pack of tabacco landed in his hands. 

"You still smoke these?", Sirius asked amused, eyeing him over the edge of his mug. Remus shrugged and fumbled around with his papers, fingers trembling, ignoring the feeling of claws reaching down his throat. The filter slipped his grasp and Remus swore quietly under his breath.

"Come on, let me.." Pale fingers, skin stretching over bones, reached gently for his tabacco and paper, and Remus threw a brief glance at the other's face, clasping his hands together. The bandages were slowly coming off and Remus srcatched at the scabs on his knuckles. 

Sirius placed the mug carefully beside him and turned his attention to rolling the fag, an absent smile stretching his hollow face. 

"I haven't done this for quite some time. Maybe Azkaban has brought a good thing after all. Clean for twelve years now." 

Remus didn't know if he should smile or frown at that, so he merely turned his attention to the sky, observing a dark cloud gathering itself. Every nerve under his skin tingled as if a million ants were caught in his tissue. 

"I hope I didn't hurt you last night.", he said finally, as Sirius presented him a wonky, yet solid enough cigarette. Taking it gratefully, Remus put it between his lips and cupped his hands around its end, a spark igniting effortlessly. He ignored Sirius' eyes on him and took a deep drag. 

"No. Don't worry about it.", his visitor answered at last, taking a careful bite of toast. "I've witnessed you at your worst before."

 

They sat without talking as the last flares of sunshine sunk behind the trees and the sky grew darker steadily. The air felt heavy and sickeningly sweet around them, a pressing silence gathering in their clothes. Thunder made Remus jump slightly and he flicked his stub away.

"Let's go inside. A storm is coming.", he suggested, observing that Sirius was shivering. They collected the empty dishes and entered the house as a the first drops hit dry leaves. 

"Do you- Would you mind putting some music on?", Sirius asked quietly as Remus conducted him to the sofa, his eyes flickering around the room unsure. Remus felt his guts pulling themselves together and he smiled.

"Of course. What would you like to hear? Led Zeppelin?" He walked over to his collection of dusty vinyls, a shiver running down his spine as Sirius laughed hoarsly.

"Oh, I did quite like them, as I recall just now. Although I can not remember a single song. Put something on that you have been listening to lately."

 

Remus hesitated, before he grabbed one and put it on the record player. Lowering himself on a shabby armchair, he watched Sirius face from the corner of his eyes. He had his eyes closed and his legs pulled to his chest, black hair hiding half of his face and Remus wanted to lick the shadows off him, off his cheekbones, off his lips. 

"I don't know that. What is it?"

"It's _The Smiths._  They got quite big shortly after...after you were gone. I have been listening to them since then. Were quite the hit in the 80s." Startled at how hollow his voice sounded, Remus took a deep breath, watching anything in the room but the bony figure on his sofa. 

Everything he said was empty and trivial.

 

"It's so...Moony.", Sirius said after a while and openend his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifted and eyes shining brightly. Remus almost recognised the person he had known a decade ago.

They sat in silence, listening to the storm hitting outside and the music around them, just a few feet apart and it still felt like miles to Remus. The air gathered fuzzy and electric around him, as if he were caught in the weird and untangable space between dreaming and waking up. Guitars rang in his ears from far away and when Sirius suddenly spoke, it filled his whole skull, echoing. 

 

"I figured we didn't have much time to talk last night."

Remus focused back on the thin, worn face with its sunken eyes and nodded shortly. 

"Given the circumstances, there was not much we could've talked about." He lifted his eyebrows questioningly at Sirius' scowl .

"You- you really do not forgive me. For suspecting you. All these years ago." The words were like stabs, making him hiss quietly. Struggling for words, Remus' eyes wandered away from him. 

"I don't know. I can not blame you. It was... not a surprise. I was mad. I was broken. _We_ were broken. You always left early and returned late. We barely talked. I was fed up, in the end."

 

There were so many thing he wanted to say, wanted to shout and scream, see Sirius crumble under the weight of them and kiss him senselessly-

"I am sorry, you know. I don't know what-", Sirius broke off, covering his face with a trembling hand and Remus chest grew tighter as the final chords of the record spilled into the room.

After taking a deep breath, Sirius lifted his face, eyes red-rimmed and wet. 

"I have to leave tomorrow. They will be searching for me more than ever and I can not put you into risk."

 

It was like missing a step, foot falling into void and Remus following right after. 

"Of course. I understand." He pulled himself up slowly, gesturing with his hand upwards. 

"You can take the room on the left, if you'd like to rest. Wake me in case you are up earlier. I will make you tea." Remus forced a smile. 

"Sleep well Padfoot."

"Yes, thank you. Sleep well, Moony." the empty voice answered behind his back as he ascended  the stairs and Remus wanted to rip out his tongue. 

 

*

 

The next morning Remus found himself in an empty kitchen, holding a piece of paper with hurriedly scrawled letters marking it.

 

_Thank you for letting me sleep and shower, Moony._

_And thank you for the tea. You have always made the best tea. I couldn't wake you. The full moon does bad things to you and I know, how important resting is. We will see each other again and I will write to you._

_I promise._

_Padfoot_

And Remus felt his heart bursting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! Please let me know in the comments what your opinion is or any tips to improve my writing!  
> Check out the wonderful song by The Smiths! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cpf6gJU3520


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